


I Know You Like to Win

by PieHeda



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Angst, Clothed Sex, Dubious Consent, F/F, Finger Sucking, Fingerfucking, Hurt/Comfort, Masturbation, Mistaken Identity, Oral Sex, Power Dynamics, Rough Sex, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-23 20:46:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20346463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PieHeda/pseuds/PieHeda
Summary: It was almost a relief to give in to the ecstatic grappling of a fight and simply let her training take over. She pinned Detmer then disarmed her, tossing her dagger across the room.





	I Know You Like to Win

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is dedicated to Mirror Detmer and the way she eye-fucks Michael in every single scene they share. Without you, it wouldn’t exist. Thank you, thirsty Mirror Detmer.

Michael took a breath. Discovery’s greatest strategic advantage was her greatest difficulty now; she couldn’t see Ash. She couldn’t confirm his survival. She had no way of knowing until her next secure contact with Tilly that he made it onto Discovery alive.

She steeled herself, fixed a blank expression on her face, and turned to walk away.

“Captain? A word?”

Detmer. More conflicting feelings there. The Detmer in this universe looked to her with admiration, counted upon her leadership, believed in her. She’d never been betrayed by Michael’s mistakes.

“Come with me,” Michael said, walking past her. “Tell me while we walk.”

“It’s sensitive in nature,” Detmer said, rushing to lock step with her. “Permission to accompany you to your quarters?”

“Of course.”

Michael was already planning to go to her captain’s quarters. She needed a moment alone, just to take a breath before the next crisis. She thought of Tilly, encouraging her to feel her feelings. She’d be proud. Michael wished she didn’t have so many opportunities to impress her roommate. As they entered her room, she hoped Detmer wouldn’t need much of her time.

The wind was nearly knocked from Michael’s lungs as Detmer slammed her to the wall. Michael fought back immediately and instinctively, reacting rather than acting. It was almost a relief to give in to the ecstatic grappling of a fight and simply let her training take over. She pinned Detmer then disarmed her, tossing her dagger across the room. Detmer grasped Michael’s wrist as she drew her own knife and raised it to her cheek. Michael looked Detmer in the eye, ready to stab and blind her if that’s what survival called for.

The threat she intended to make died on her lips. She froze, eyes locked on this Detmer’s matching pair of blue eyes, free from augmentation. Guilt welled inside of her.

Detmer knocked the blade from her hand and reversed Michael, putting her back against the wall once more. She pressed her body to Michael’s, pinning her with her entire self, and kissed her mouth roughly.

Still in fight mode, Michael defensively moved her hand to Detmer’s throat, ready to press or squeeze soft flesh until she relented. She hesitated at this unexpected turn, and in her hesitation she found herself opening her mouth to Detmer’s tongue and spreading her legs to Detmer’s thigh. Detmer took Michael’s hand from her neck and pressed her wrist to the wall.

The cold, hard surface brought Michael back into her mind, and her thoughts raced with objections (_she’s not my Detmer; Keyla is not MY Detmer, what would she think if she found out?; this Detmer doesn’t know that I’m not her captain; wrong, this is wrong_). She flexed and pushed, levering her pinned arm against the wall while wedging her other arm between herself and Detmer, pushing out of the kiss and struggling to pin Detmer once more.

“Please Captain,” Detmer said through gritted teeth, sweating already from the effort of besting Michael. “You’ve been through so much. I know you like to win, but this once, just let me.”

Her tone was sympathetic, not soft like Keyla, but close. Michael had to decide quickly. This was clearly a game, and she couldn’t let on that she didn’t know the rules. And with that, she had the answer; she let go, allowed Detmer to collide with her, and relented to her mouth and hands. If Detmer wanted a surrender, the smart move was to give it to her and learn from how she played.

Soon Detmer had her breastplate off, and panic spread in Michael’s chest as Detmer’s fingers sought out zippers and exposed flesh (_wrong, wrong, this is WRONG_).

Detmer paused to look at her, and Michael felt an icicle jab of fear that she’d given herself away somehow, perhaps showing the anxiety that she felt. If she was found out, she would have no time to send a notification to Discovery. She would be executed by exposure, just like Ash, or she would be put in an agonizer like Lorca until she could be turned over to the Emperor. This would doom both her and Discovery.

She met Detmer’s gaze, and to her relief, instead of suspicion she saw desire.

“Take what’s yours,” she said, granting Detmer only a suggestion of a smile. Detmer shot her a feral grin and ran fingers between Michael’s breasts up to her mouth. Michael found this entirely strange, but played along as Detmer slid two fingers between her lips. She wondered if anyone in her universe did this. Ash certainly hadn’t. She felt her brow furrow at the thought of him.

Detmer glided her fingers in and out of Michael’s mouth, and Michael’s face flushed as she suddenly understood the allure. It made no logical sense, connected with no primary or secondary sexual parts of her body. And yet it aroused her, inexplicably. Having Ash as her only sexual partner, she considered, didn’t equal a conclusive sexual education.

“Forget him,” Detmer said, as if Michael had spoken her thoughts. She trailed her wet fingers down, below Michael’s waist.

Michael gasped as Detmer entered her.

“He was less than nothing,” Detmer said, punctuating her words with thrusts, “he was unworthy of you my Captain, forget him…”

Michael’s feelings for Ash, all of her fear and anger and worry expanded in her until she felt that if she gave them her full attention, if only Detmer wasn’t distracting her, they would crush her.

Her voice exploded in her chest, and she jolted her hips towards Detmer’s thrusts.

“He was unworthy,” Michael said, nearly at a shout. 

“He didn’t deserve your bed,” Detmer said, matching Michael’s volume as she pistoned her fingers into her.

“Not like you, my Keyla,” Michael said, and Detmer melted into her, kissing and groping and fucking her. Michael’s mind and body became liquid as she let go of Ash, let go of Discovery and the Mirror Universe, let go and let Detmer have her.

As Michael felt the first spasm that signaled her approaching orgasm, Detmer dropped to her knees, yanking her trousers down with her. She replaced her fingers with her lips and tongue, sucking at Michael’s clit and pressing at her opening. Michael cried out, frustrated and close to rage at the denial of the orgasm.

It seemed she could feel Detmer’s excitement in reaction; she gripped Michael’s hips, and pulled herself a little deeper into her folds. Michael let herself give in to the rage, tightly clutching Detmer’s hair, roaring at the pilot. Detmer reacted with frantic flicks of her tongue. Michael twisted her hair around her fist and leaned into Detmer’s mouth. Detmer shoved her hips, pinning her back to the wall, and then buried her mouth in her folds.

Michael groaned, and pushed against Detmer again.

Detmer wrestled with her, and Michael delighted in the struggle. Getting someone off seemed to Michael like an odd way to win a competition, but she enjoyed the way it combined the thrill of a fight with the straightforward pleasure of sex. She considered that sometimes when sparring with Ash or Rhys, she’d notice a smile that seemed to mean something more. She never asked, disliking interactions she didn’t understand. Now she wondered what would have happened if she’d asked.

Then Detmer stroked her tongue across Michael’s clit in just the right way, and her knees became weak.

Michael’s hips twitched in small thrusts. She wanted more, felt anxious that she wouldn’t get what she needed, until she remembered who she was here.

“Do that again,” she growled. “Make your captain come.”

The last hint of her objections that surfaced, in the form of the vague sense that she should be shocked by the ease with which she issued that order. She should be shocked, and definitely not turned on by it.

Detmer’s warm, wet tongue stroked her clit again, and her fingers sunk into Michael. Michael let go of her final concern as she rode Detmer’s hand and mouth. She braced herself against the wall, needing it’s support as she came.

As she shuddered with the last spasms of her orgasm, her body went slack. It was all she could do to stay on her feet. She leaned against the wall, eyes closed, chest rising and falling as the pounding of blood in her ears slowly faded. Detmer stayed on her knees, placing kisses that felt tender, or perhaps reverent, on her mound.

She thought of Keyla back on Discovery. She wondered if this is how it would feel to have sex with her. She could never tell Keyla that this happened. 

She thought of how this Detmer was the second person who’d ever fucked her.

Michael covered her mouth, stifling a whimper as she thought of Ash kissing her for the first time, staying with her as she fell asleep, the first time they made love…

She reached down and grasped a fistful of Detmer’s hair, and pulled her off of the floor. Detmer met her eyes fiercely, as full of desire as before and perhaps defiant now, as if standing up to Michael’s gaze was somehow part of the game.

Again, fear threatened to cloud Michael’s mind. Decisive action. Demands. Orders. That’s what worked best in this world. She tightened her grip on Detmer’s hair, and twisted to angle her face just right before kissing her.

Michael found that now, as it had been with Ash, the taste of her own sex on a lover’s mouth turned her on. She enveloped Detmer’s lips in hers, sucking them with each kiss. Detmer’s tongue darted into her mouth, flitting against her tongue in the same way she’d licked her clit. Michael felt a surge between her legs; not even Ash had the power to stoke her arousal so quickly after an orgasm.

A pang of doubt came with the sensation. Michael knew that all of this simply prolonged the inevitable, when her fears and objections would come crashing down on her. But she also knew that putting it off meant plain and simple survival, one more day alive in this brutal universe, and she couldn’t deny the logic of self-preservation. She wrapped her arms around Detmer’s waist and held her tight.

After some time, Detmer broke the kiss with a gasp.

“Captain,” she panted, tugging gently at Michael’s collar and glancing behind her to the bed. “Can we…?”

Michael nodded. “Show me what you want,” she said, and this time it didn’t feel like acting.

Detmer knelt subserviently before Michael to help her out of her boots and the trousers tangled around her ankles. Then she rose and moved to the edge of Michael’s bed. Detmer watched Michael intently as she removed her own boots, then stripped off her jacket and bra.

As Michael approached, Detmer reclined on the bed, moving to make space for her. Michael stalked towards her and slid in beside her. Her hand already crept up Detmer’s bare belly as she settled in beside her, as if she belonged to Michael.

Detmer smiled demurely up at her as Michael palmed her breast. Her demeanor appeared to switch, more submissive now, her eyes wide and questioning Michael without words.

Michael hoped that action would continue to serve her best. She kissed Detmer passionately but less aggressively than before, while her fingers played across the pilot’s nipple. Detmer hummed a light moan of satisfaction. Michael marveled at what appeared to be Detmer’s desire to be touched and kissed, to simply receive affection.

Just as Michael began to wonder if she’d underestimated Detmer’s desires, she detected an odd movement, a repetitive contraction of Detmer’s arm. She broke the kiss, and looked down to confirm what she suspected; Detmer’s wrist dipped into the waist of her own trousers, and Michael could see fingers moving beneath the fabric as she got herself off.

Michael stared at the spot where Detmer’s hand disappeared. Nothing she’d done with Ash had prepared her to respond to this situation. She struggled to keep her expression stoic while inside she flailed for the correct reaction.

“Captain,” Detmer said. “Will you…?”

_Will I what?_ Michael thought.

“Tell me,” Michael said, adding a hint of authority to her tone.

“Please Captain,” Detmer said, and looked at her pleadingly.

_Dammit, what???_

Michael leaned over Detmer, hovering her lips no more than an inch away, and she could feel the tension this created in the other woman.

“Tell me,” she commanded.

“Please,” Detmer said, desperately.

_FUCK_.

She climbed on top of Detmer and jammed her hand inside her waistband, forcing Detmer’s fingers out of the way. Detmer’s eyes went wide as Michael slid her fingers between her wet folds. Michael panicked momentarily, and then Detmer’s eyelids fluttered and she seemed to relax into her touch.

Detmer rocked against her hand, and Michael exhaled with relief; her instincts for how to please a woman appeared to be correct. Or else Detmer was performing in order to appear pleased by her captain, afraid of what it would mean to suggest she was a bad lover. Or she wanted something else entirely from Michael, and making her seem like a good lover was the way to get it. What if she wanted to spend the night? What if Detmer never left?

Detmer’s voice pitched up and broke; without realizing it, Michael had intensified her strokes. The pilot writhed under her.

“Incoming communication for Captain Michael Burnham from Discovery.” The cool, emotionless voice of the computer cut through Detmer’s cries.

“Computer, hold message,” Michael said. “Come for me now,” she said to Detmer, mustering all of the authority she could summon.

Detmer thrashed and whined, shaking her head.

Michael grasped her jaw and kissed her, darting her tongue into Detmer’s mouth, mimicking the way the pilot had kissed her earlier. Detmer arched toward her and met her tongue, and soon she was bucking under Michael’s hand and moaning into her mouth.

As soon as Detmer finished, Michael rose and walked towards the bathroom in her quarters.

“Dress,” she commanded, as she returned to the room, drying her hands with a towel. “You’re dismissed; I need to take this communication.”

Detmer dipped her head in a bow; they appeared to be back to Captain and Officer. Michael pulled on a black robe, and sighed with relief when Detmer finally left. She hurriedly tapped the security key into her door, and then ordered the computer to put the message through.

“Michael, I’m sorry. I couldn’t wait any longer,” Tilly said. “We didn’t hear anything for so long, I thought something might have gone wrong. But we have Ash. He’s here. He’s… I don’t know what happened to him, but he’s safe.”

Michael’s eyes welled and spilled over with tears, and as soon as they started she knew she couldn’t stop.

“Oh no! I’m so sorry! Of course you don’t want to talk about him, that was stupid of me, Michael, I’m so sorry.”

“No,” Michael said, her voice breaking, “I was worried. It’s just… this place, Tilly. I feel like I’m losing myself.”

“Do you want me to be there? I can come up with an explanation. Or threaten anyone who asks for an explanation. Or just say I’m there for a booty call; everyone here seems to fuck everyone else, from what I can tell from their records.”

Michael lost what little control she had left, and stood sobbing, unable to speak.

Tilly’s face dropped, then set with determination.

“I’ll be right there.”

***

“Computer, disconnect private connection, and get me Comms,” Tilly said.

Within seconds, she had a comm link to the Shenzhou, and ordered them to standby for one to transport.

As she left her room, Saru dashed down the hall towards her.

“You can’t stop me,” Tilly said, without breaking her stride.

“This mission has been beyond dangerous for Burnham and Tyler, and we still haven’t received any updates on Lorca,” Saru said. “And all of them, I should add, have military or defense training and are far more prepared for unexpected situations…”

“I’m really, really sorry Saru,” Tilly said as she stepped into the transporter. “But Michael needs me right now. So fuck all that, I’m a captain.”

***

Michael’s door pinged quietly.

“Captain Tilly, requesting permission to enter.”

“Confirmed.”

Tilly rushed in, making sure the doors locked behind her before wrapping herself around Michael. Michael sobbed onto her friend’s shoulder and tried to explain, but the sounds that came out of her were unintelligible.

“Shh, it’s ok,” Tilly said. “I’ve got you now Michael, it’s ok.”

***

“I’m not even her captain.”

Michael stared at her hands, clasped in Tilly’s. She was no longer crying.

“I don’t think it matters that much.”

“But it does. She thinks I’m someone else. She thinks she slept with a completely different person, not me. It’s… it’s a lie. She doesn’t know who she was just with. Not really.”

Tilly squeezed Michael’s hand. Somehow that made it better, made Michael feel less like she was about to break down all over again.

“I’ve read a lot of their histories, trying to understand them. And their stories. Watched some of their recordings. The way they view sex… it’s just way different. I think… I think it hurts you a lot more. Than it would her.”

“How can you know that?”

“The Terran way is more like… if she knew? You would definitely die, they do not take betrayal lightly. But it would be for pretending to be Captain Michael Burnham, not for banging Detmer. If anything, she would probably brag about topping the pretender before she personally beamed you into the vacuum of space.”

Michael considered this. It was oddly comforting, in spite of the disconcerting way in which it was delivered.

“I think I wanted it, Tilly. Not at first, but eventually. I liked it. I could have stopped, could have sent her away. I didn’t.”

“I mean, relatable,” Tilly said. “I’d hit that too, if I got the chance.”

“Tilly…”

“OK, you’re right, not the right time.”

Michael stared at their entwined hands.

“I knew this would be a challenge, but I had no idea. The things it would do to me, the things it would do to the ones I love.”

“Hey,” Tilly said. “Ash may not be in control of himself? Don’t know, still not sure. But that had nothing to do with you. He can go eat a bag of dicks for all I care; he hurt you and that’s not OK.”

Michael paused, looking into Tilly’s eyes.

“A bag of dicks?”

“Klingon dicks,” Tilly said.

Michael didn’t laugh, but she gave Tilly a confounded smile and shook her head.

“We’re working on a plan to get back to our universe. We’ll be out of here as soon as we can, promise. I’m sorry that you have to do this until then. It’s not fair.”

“I suppose until then, it’s good to know my best friend can somehow force her way through a Terran vessel to the Captain’s private quarters.”

“Oh that,” Tilly said, smiling brightly. “That’s easy, everyone here is scared as fuck of me. I just made some threats and everyone got out of my way, no questions. They’re not going to have any questions when I stay with you tonight, either. I think I’m like a psychopath or something here.”

“You don’t have to do that, Tilly…”

“I know, but I want to. Also, I mouthed off to Saru, so. Not in a hurry to get back.” She gave Michael a nervous look. “I’m drunk with power.”

Michael felt herself beginning to tear up again.

“Thank you Tilly.”

The two talked long into the night, until Michael finally grew tired and Tilly insisted that she could talk just as easily in bed.

She woke up with Tilly still beside her, one arm draped over Michael. She thought of Ash again, of waking next to him like this.

She put it out of her mind, and curled into Tilly, burying her head under her chin. Tilly stirred and gave her a light squeeze before her gentle snoring resumed.


End file.
